


Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie

by beersforqueers



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang saves the day, Canon settings, Cuddling, Essentially it could be anything, Ficlets, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Sex Work, Sokka invents things, Tumblr Prompts, Unrequited Love, and modern AUs, hell AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:49:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The repository for my prompt fills from tumblr, which are all ficlets centered around Sokka and Zuko's relationship in a variety of settings and situations. Each chapter is stand-alone!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this…”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a Black Flag song? Because? Me? Don't even ask at this point, I don't know what I'm doing with my life.

“Get the fuck off me,” Zuko shoved ineffectually at Sokka’s shoulder.

“No,” Sokka snuggled deeper into the blankets, tucking his face into the warm skin at the crook of Zuko’s neck.

“Get your face out of my…” Zuko sleepily pushed at him again, “crevices.”

“Excellent word choice,” Sokka sniggered. 

“Fuck off,” Zuko said, but he was obviously losing steam, his eyelids fluttering closed again. It was early morning, the dim light colored lemon yellow by the palace curtains. It cast dancing shadows across the sharp planes of Zuko’s face, and Sokka actually did sit up a little to look at him properly. 

“You’re so cute when you’re half-asleep like this,” Sokka cooed (for maximum Zuko irritation), tracing a finger over Zuko’s lower lip.

Zuko parted his lips obligingly, heavily lidded eyes sliding open to meet Sokka’s. He sucked Sokka’s finger into his mouth, traced his tongue across the tip, scraped his teeth across the pad…

And then bit him. Hard.

“Fuck off,” he repeated, and rolled over to go back to sleep. 

He only groaned a little bit when Sokka immediately plastered himself across his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/148947749317/127-or-143-w-zukka-for-the-dialog-prompts)
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> Shameless self-promotion: [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	2. “There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid”

“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid, Sokka.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“I think that’s the problem,” Zuko signed. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will DEFINITELY work, Zuko,” Sokka yelled down, strapping on his safety goggles, “I have thought of everything.”

“Everything?” Zuko was standing at the foot of the bell tower in the palace gardens, watching dubiously as Sokka fussed with the straps attaching him to the set of large fabric kites on his back. 

“It’ll be like airbending! But without the bending! A whole new era!”

“I did not approve this,” Aang assured Zuko. 

“But you’re willing to catch him if it all goes south?” Zuko whispered out of the corner of his mouth. 

Aang nodded, big eyes fixed anxiously on the tiny figure of Sokka above them.

“This is a momentous occasion,” Sokka intoned, apparently satisfied with the strength of his buckles.

“Oh here we go again,” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. 

“I know,” Katara rolled her eyes. 

“This is excellent. Did anyone bring snacks?” Toph grinned. She stomped her foot, hard, and Sokka toppled off of the tower.

“TOPH!” Katara screamed as Sokka flapped wildly, careening toward the earth.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Aang said soothingly. “I got him!”

A sudden updraft caught the wings, sending Sokka sailing smoothly through the air. He crowed in victory. Katara and Zuko shared a commiserating look.

Sokka tumbled to the ground at their feet and bounced immediately upright.

“I’m gonna do it again!” he took off running toward the tower. 

“I hope you realize what you’ve done,” Katara turned to Aang, whose eyes were suddenly very wide. “You’ll be out here all night.

“On the scale between brave and stupid,” Zuko patted him on the shoulder, “I think we all know where YOU just landed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/148950890382/127-or-143-w-zukka-for-the-dialog-prompts)
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> [My tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	3. “Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

“Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

  
“For the last time, Sokka,” Zuko turned on the spot and fixed him with a glare. “I don’t care about the secrets to your flawless manscaping.”

  
“Oh honey,” Sokka quirked an eyebrow at him, “you know you can use all the help you can get.”

  
“Did not need to know! Did NOT need to know!” Aang shuffled past in his PJs, clutching a cup of tea in his hand.

  
“That is MY kimono, baldie,” Sokka yelled after him.

  
“Sokka, you own like 6 kimonos,” Zuko rolled his eyes at him. “letting Aang borrow one probably won’t kill you.”

“It’s not my life I’m worried about,” Sokka said darkly. “It’s the longevity of my poor wardrobe. It’s getting a little rough,” he fingered the stretched out neck of his bright blue tank top, “since you started working out your aggression on me.”

Zuko flushed a satisfying shade of deep red and cleared his throat.

“Oh, well, anyway, what have I been dying to ask you?” he rasped awkwardly. He had the door to Sokka and Aang’s apartment half open, and he wasn’t sure whether to not to close it. Whatever Sokka was about to say probably didn’t need to be overheard by the entire building.

“You wanted to ask,” Sokka sidled up to Zuko and took two handfuls of his jacket, using them to walk him back against the door. It clicked firmly shut. “Where I learned to do that thing,” he leaned in and licked a line up the column of Zuko’s throat. Zuko swallowed thickly. “With my tongue,” he finished.

“Fuck,” Zuko’s hand scrabbled for the door handle. “I have to go to work, I’m gonna be so late.”

Sokka sighed melodramatically and stepped back, reaching behind Zuko to open the door for him.

“All right, babe,” he ushered Zuko out of the door. “Same time next week?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Zuko blushed again and ducked his head, giving a little wave. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Sokka smiled, then shut the door again and collapsed back against it.

“Fuck,” he thumped his head against the wood and closed his eyes.

“You,” Aang wandered back toward the kitchen with his now-empty mug, “have got to stop falling for your clients.”

“Tell me about it,” Sokka groaned, and went to clean up for his 11 o’clock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/149020118617/for-the-dialogue-prompt-can-you-please-do-number)
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> Shameless self-promotion: [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	4. "Cross that. Don't finish that."

“Cross that, don’t finish that.”

“If you try coaching me through my crossword puzzle ONE MORE TIME, Zuko, I swear to god…” Sokka jerked the newspaper away from him. “I haven’t even started it yet, but I’ve got this one, ok?”

“If you say so,” Zuko slid a plate of scrambled eggs across the counter to Sokka, who stabbed at them blindly with his left hand, the right clenched around a pen (”Because you does their crossword puzzles in pencil, Zuko? QUITTERS.”)

“Can I at least read you the clues?” Zuko pouted. 

“Fine,” Sokka held his hand out imperiously, and Zuko dropped the kitchen shears into them. “But only so you can feel important.”

“You’re too kind,” Zuko rolled his eyes at him, but accepted the sheet of newsprint, now with a gaping hole in the center where the puzzle used to be.

“17 across,” Sokka shoveled some more eggs clumsily into his mouth.

“Arnett, Smith, Rogers, and Ferrell,” Zuko said.

“Will!” Sokka scratched down the answer.

“7 down. ‘I owe [blank]’,” Zuko recited.

“You…” Sokka grabbed the crusts of Zuko’s toast from his plate, trailing crumbs across the rest of the paper. “Next one?”

“47 across,” a small smile began to form on Zuko’s face, “To make [blank], or a character from The Lord of the Rings.”

“Pshaw, that’s too easy,” Sokka dipped an entire crust into the jam jerry, “Merry.”

“The third note on the tonal scale,” Zuko was full on grinning now, “49 down.”

“Jokes on them,” Sokka muttered, “I know The Sound of Music like the back of my own jerk off hand.”

“So that’s the answer?” Zuko asked, barely containing laughter. He reached behind himself and slipped a small box out of his PJ pant pocket.

“Mi,” Sokka said, as though this was perfectly obvious. He brought the crust to his mouth, but didn’t bite down on it. It hovered in the air over his lap, dripping raspberry onto his basketball shorts. He frowned. Obviously something wasn’t quite right.

His eyes traced over the crossword, lips forming the words he’d already written down in the little boxes. 

Suddenly, without warning, he launched himself across the counter at Zuko.

“You BASTARD!” Toast and eggs went flying, the jam jar spilled, and Zuko only just managed to keep a hold of the ring box. Sokka was lying sprawled across the counter, dishes and food shoved out of the way, his arms wrapped around Zuko’s neck. 

It was unclear whether he was going for an embrace or a half nelson. 

“WILL YOU MERRY MI?” he shouted. “YOU TOTALLY FUCKED UP MY CROSSWORD. I DO THAT SHIT IN PEN.”

Zuko could hardly stay upright between Sokka’s weight and the force of his own laughter. “I regret nothing,” he chocked out, and the arms around his neck tightened.

“You…you are just…” Sokka looked at a loss for words. He pulled back, seemed to realize what a ridiculous position he was in, and slid slowly back onto his bar stool.

Zuko, now covered in the remains of Sokka’s breakfast, sidled around the edge of the counter. “Are you going to attack me again?” he asked cautiously, trying to get his laughter under control.

“No,” Sokka said breathlessly. His cheeks were pink, his eyes very wide. He clasped his hands between his knees, bouncing a little. Even his ponytail seemed extra perky with anticipation. “You’re gonna do the thing, aren’t you?”

Zuko shot him a sardonic look as he got down on one knee. 

“This hurts, I’ll have you know,” he said. 

“Like you don’t have enough practice on your knees,” Sokka sniggered.

“Romantic, Sokka,” Zuko said. “I’m trying to propose here, if you don’t mind.”

“Right, right, finish that first,” Sokka settled forward in his chair expectantly.

“Sokka,” Zuko cracked the box open. “Will you-”

“YES!” Sokka rocketed forward again, but this time Zuko caught him. They landed on the floor together, the box knocked away and forgotten, jam sticky underneath them, the remains of the tattered newspaper fluttering down beside them. Sokka was kissing him enthusiastically, the puzzle still clenched in his hand.

He finally pulled away and waved the stained sheet in front of Zuko’s nose. Zuko huffed at him breathlessly, feeling very pleased with himself. “This is the best Sunday brunch ever,” Sokka declared.

“I figured you could forgive me for fucking with your puzzle,” Zuko kissed him again.

“Just this one time,” Sokka said. 

They didn’t make it up from the kitchen floor until mid-afternoon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/149088036042/cross-that-dont-finish-that-five-word-zukka)
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> Shameless self-promotion: [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	5. “You have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“You have to tell me why we’re committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“Because it’s FUNNY,” Sokka handed Zuko the wrench. “Stop wiggling around, you’re gonna fall off the stool.”

“I’m not even a stoner,” Zuko sighed, but accepted the wrench.

“So? You don’t have to be a stoner to appreciate the simple brilliance of a 420 joke,” Sokka said dramatically. “Crank the nuts off the back,” he paused, then started chuckling to himself, “ha ha, nuts.”

“You are a child,” Zuko wrestled with the bolt on the back of the sign, “and we’re going to die out here.”

“Naw, the road’s totally clear, we’re fine,” Sokka glanced up and down the darkened freeway. “Just hurry up.”

“I almost got it,” Zuko tossed a nut and bolt down into Sokka’s outstretched palm. “There’s one more on the bottom.”

“Awesome,” Sokka grinned.

A few moments later Zuko handed him the mile marker sign. It was much bigger than it had looked from the road, the giant white numbers glowing in the beams of their headlights.

“This is a piece of history, Zuko,” Sokka said, looking a little misty-eyed.

“Whatever, weirdo,” Zuko neatly folded the step stool and stowed it in their backseat. “Can we please go before we get arrested?”

“But Zuko! This is one of the very last mile markers of its kind! Appreciate this moment with me!”

“I would never have brought you to this conference with me if I had known…”

“…that Nebraska is home to one of the few remaining Mile Marker 420 signs in the entire country? You totally would have,” Sokka hugged the sign to his chest and finally consented to be led to the car.

“This is the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done,” Zuko muttered, and climbed back behind the wheel.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted in life,” Sokka wiped at his eyes.

“Sokka, are you stoned RIGHT NOW?” Zuko asked suspiciously.

“Maybe,” Sokka hedged.

“I can’t believe this,” Zuko groaned. “Why am I with you?”

“Because every uptight psychologist needs a lovable stoner scientist in their life,” Sokka caressed the sign lovingly. “And also the sex is great.”

“The sex had better be fucking AMAZING tonight.”

“Oh it will be,” Sokka reached over and pulled Zuko in for lingering kiss. “Especially since I can’t remember whether that brownie I gave you was strictly substance free.”

“SOKKA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/149020118617/for-the-dialogue-prompt-can-you-please-do-number)
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> Shameless self-promotion: [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	6. Fic Title: Things We Shouldn't Have Said

Sitting across from Sokka was... awkward. Zuko should have expected that. He had known it would be strange to be with any of them after chasing the Avatar--Aang, he reminded himself--across the world. But he hadn’t given much thought to this boy in particular.

Sokka was obviously trying to be nonchalant, take it in stride that he was facing his avowed-enemy across a fire of said-enemy’s own creation. There was an overly studied quality to the casual slope of his shoulders, the lazy draw of a whetstone across the blade balanced on his knee. Maybe Zuko should have taken it as ominous to have Sokka calmly sharpening a weapon in his vicinity.

But if they could try to trust him, he had to try to trust them too.

“So, uh...” Zuko cleared his throat and Sokka’s eyes shot up to meet him. Sokka’s surprise was quickly schooled back into unconcern, and he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing. Zuko hadn’t met many members of the Water Tribe, but he wondered if all of their eyes were that same shade of dizzyingly clear blue. He hadn’t noticed on Katara, but then again, he was noticing a lot of new things about Sokka right now. 

He blushed and looked back down into the fire. He wanted to avoid looking at Sokka’s hands, sure and callused, eminently capable. His smooth brown skin shimmered in the firelight. He was sort of thin, but in that lean, gangly way of teenage boys the world over. 

Zuko wondered if they were the same age. 

“So, yeah, uh, how old are you?” he asked. That hadn’t been what he’d originally planned to say, but now it was out of his mouth. 

“How old am I?” Sokka echoed slowly, looking at Zuko like he was an idiot. “Why do you care? Does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko shrugged self-consciously. “I’m 17.”

“I’m 16,” Sokka said, “but I’ll be 17 in 2 months.” He added the last part with a competitive edge to his voice, like he wanted to make sure Zuko knew he didn’t have the upper hand, even if was just in age.

“Cool,” Zuko said. They lapsed back into silence, which was miserable on Zuko’s end. He should probably stop trying to talk to Sokka, obviously Sokka wasn’t interested, this was a disaster, _he_ was a disaster, but then--

“What do you do for birthdays in the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked offhandedly. He said it like he didn’t really care either way if Zuko bothered to answer. But he’d asked. “Since you’re a _prince_ and all, I bet it’s fancy,” he said, and Zuko felt his heart sink just as quickly as it had risen. “Not like for us peasants.” Sokka spit the last word, and Zuko recoiled. This was the first time Sokka had been outwardly hostile to him since he’d saved them from the Fire Nation assassin. 

It stung more than he’d expected.

Sokka seemed to get himself back under control with some effort. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“It’s ok, I--” Zuko clenched his fists tight on top of his thighs. “I deserved that. I shouldn’t have called you a Water Tribe peasant. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, well,” Sokka said, but he looked mollified. Maybe he hadn’t expected Zuko to be so sincere in his apology. 

“We didn’t really do much,” Zuko said, thinking back to Sokka’s original question. “For my birthday, I mean. My sister had a big party, a feast and games and performances and stuff. I didn’t really...” Zuko trailed off, unsure how to put this without sounding completely pathetic. “My dad doesn’t like me much.”

“That’s fucked up, man,” Sokka said sympathetically. “Why didn’t your mom do something?”

“I don’t know where she is,” Zuko whispered. “She’s been gone since I was little.”

“Mine’s dead,” Sokka said, and it was a jarring statement. Two words, flat intonation, endless devastation. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said. There didn’t seem to be much else to say.

“I grew up with my gran. My dad’s the chief, so he’s been fighting most of my life,” Sokka continued. 

“So you really _aren’t_ a peasant,” Zuko blurted out. He felt his world tilt a little to assimilate this new information that Sokka wasn’t that different from him, really. Their lives had a strange symmetry to them. 

The comment wasn’t funny, but Sokka’s lips quirked up at him anyway. Zuko got the impression that smiling was something Sokka did a lot, and suddenly he hoped he could get those smiles aimed at himself more often in the future. 

“No, Zuko,” Sokka chuckled. “I’m really not a peasant.”

“Sorry,” Zuko muttered again, but Sokka just laughed harder.  

“You know, I thought you were a dick,” Sokka said, and he stood up, sheathing his sword as he did so. He walked around the perimeter of the fire pit and clapped Zuko on the shoulder, leaving his hand there. “But you’re actually just socially awkward, aren’t you?”

“Um,” Zuko said. He was very aware of the point of contact between Sokka’s palm and the skin beneath his shirt. “Yes?”

“Well ok,” Sokka leaned down into his space and looked him in the eye with exaggerated seriousness. Barely concealed amusement danced in them. “Then I shouldn’t have called you that either. You aren’t an asshole.”

And then he straightened up and walked out of the circle of firelight, laughing quietly to himself. 

Zuko had no idea why any of that should make him feel warm inside, but it did. The sensation matched the tingling heat of the place where Sokka’s hand had rested on his shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/153224481672/fic-title-things-we-shouldnt-have-said)
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>  [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	7. Can you commit to one person?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr prompt!!! I fucking love these

Sokka is only here because it’s Katara’s bachelorette party. He didn’t _ask_ to be here, he _really_ didn’t want to see his little sister getting a lap dance, but he’s Man of Honor. So he’s here. In this club. 

He’s had a few shots by now, because this is an absolute travesty and Toph should be stopped. At the moment she’s egging Katara on, laughing hysterically while Katara splutters and turns red and very clearly enjoys the man gyrating on top of her. 

Sokka turns away from the sight of Katara bashfully stuffing dollar bills into the stripper’s spandex shorts and stares toward a side stage. There’s a hot guy grinding against the pole, glittery booty shorts pulled taut across a tight ass. They’re crimson red, and he’s impossible to miss under the pulsing lights. He does a full body roll, hooks an ankle around the pole, spins himself up the length of it like it’s nothing. 

When he twists back around and begins to descend, Sokka sees his scar. It’s huge and dark, spilling across his upper cheek. He’s mesmerizing as he glides down the pole, legs split wide and shorts pulling obscenely over his junk. Sokka decides that he likes the scar. It’s sexy.

Sokka starts to move toward the stage. The dancer catches his eye and Sokka nearly halts at the intensity of his gaze. 

This guy has some serious smolder. 

“Hey,” Sokka reaches the foot of the stage. He’s seen people approaching the dancers, asking for private dances. He’s never wanted anything so badly in his entire life. 

The dancer slinks toward him, then falls to his knees on the edge of the platform and coasts an elegant hand up his own bare chest. He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in a messy, sexy way. His thighs flex as he arches his back and circles his hips to the music, crotch disconcertingly close to Sokka’s face. 

Sokka swallows hard. 

The dancer leans forward and plants his hands on the stage, crawling closer to Sokka. 

“Hey,” he says back, and _fuck_ his voice is hoarse and smoky. 

“Can you commit to one person?”Sokka says weakly, and maybe it’s meant to be a joke, but he really wants this guy to answer seriously. 

“You got $50?” the dancer asks him, dipping his head low to whisper into Sokka’s ear. Sokka shivers. 

“I do,” he whispers back. The dancer pulls away just far enough to smirk. His eyes are fucking _gold_. Sokka’s stomach lurches, and he feels his blood thundering south. 

“Then I can commit as long as you like, baby,” the dancer says, and Sokka is _so glad_ he came here tonight. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/156866414832/7-and-zukka)
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> Shameless self-promotion: [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	8. The AA Meeting From Hell

Sokka figured this was exactly what he deserved.

“Could you _please_ turn that down??” he gritted out, and Aang cheerfully pulled his headphones down around his neck to hear him better.

“WHAT?” Aang asked, eardrums clearly damaged by his obscenely loud music. The music that was now pouring unimpeded from his headphones.

Sokka grabbed his Walkman and yanked the cord free. Aang looked wounded.

“You can have it back if you promise to turn it _down_ ,” he said, and glared at Aang until he nodded acquiescence.

“What, you hungover?” Aang quipped.

“Jesus, Aang, not funny,” Sokka groaned. “Leave the tacky jokes to me, man.”

“No Jesus here, I’m afraid,” Aang smiled, and reached up to run a deathly pale hand over the glowing blue tattoo on his scalp. Aang may work in the administrative part of Hell, but he’d earned his…stripes? Arrows? They were definitely arrows, but there was some sort of mixed Earth metaphor here that Sokka failed to grasp. It was sort of embarrassing considering he’d worked during World War I. Satan, that had been a lot of overtime.

“Ha ha,” Sokka said grumpily. He wrapped his wings around himself crossly.

“No, don’t be like that,” Aang said, and tugged sharply on one of his flight feathers.

“Hey!” Sokka batted at him, “I need those!”

“You’re cocooning,” Aang said, unimpressed. “Why are you so cranky today?”

“No reason,” Sokka said, and tucked his feathers even tighter around himself. Their soft down was warm and comforting and he was tired even though the meeting hadn’t even started yet.

“Oh, I see,” Aang said, and Sokka looked around at him. Sokka didn’t trust his suddenly knowing tone of voice.

Aang was looking toward the shitty card table where Ozzy was setting up coffee and donuts. There was a tall, pale specter chatting idly with…

“They broke up,” Aang said quietly.

“Yeah, I heard,” Sokka sighed. “And now she’s his sponsor.”

“He’s 6 months and counting,” Aang said. “I’m very happy for him. Mai’s good for him. You know, all that doom and gloom and torturing souls, it’s motivational.”

“You’re not helping,” Sokka said. “He doesn’t wanna date the fucking _ferryman_ , he’s, like, a prince.”

“There’s something to be said for slumming it,” Aang shrugged. “You’re super built.” Aang looked sadly down at his own ghostly white arms. He didn’t spend a lot of time out in the pits, and the one time he’d had to conduct a practical review he’d come back pink and peeling. Sokka’d had to slather aloe on him for weeks.

“Thanks, it’s all the pole work,” Sokka said, deadpan.

“Hey Sokka.”

He jumped about a foot off his chair. Literally. When he settled back down he realized he’d smacked Aang across the face with one of his rapidly expanding wings.

“Sorry,” came the voice again.

Sokka scrambled around and stared up at Prince Zuko. He was a little pink in the cheeks, his long yellow eyes shimmering in the low light, slit pupils wide and apologetic.

“It’s chill! Or, um, hot! You know, cause…” Sokka trailed off, “…we’re in Hell.”

Aang groaned quietly beside him.

“Yeah, um, I heard it’s been a year for you,” Zuko said, still flustered. “Since the DUI.”

“Uh huh,” it was Sokka’s turn to blush. Crashing the ferry into a stalactite had been a real low point for him. All of those souls gone right into the river, and old Mr. Piandao’s spirit had smacked him around the head with his walking stick. “I’m on the straight and narrow now.”

“The not-so-straight and wide-open-for-it, more like,” Aang muttered. Sokka not-so-accidentally clipped him with the trailing edge of a wing and he folded them to his back.

“Oh,” Zuko looked at Aang, his blush deepening. “Um. Donut?” he held out a glazed to Sokka.

“Those are my favorite,” Sokka said, staring at him.

“Yeah, um, I know,” Zuko was still holding it out.

“Thanks,” Sokka said, and accepted the donut. Their fingers brushed and both of them froze.

“Oh my god, _this_ is the pits,” Aang slumped forward in his chair dramatically. “The sexual tension is gonna kill me.”

“Bro!” Sokka snapped at Aang, and then smiled ingratiatingly at Zuko. Zuko, looking significantly more at ease now that the donut had changed hands, smiled back shyly.

“So I heard you sometimes give private river tours,” Zuko said slowly, hands twisting in his black silk robes. They were all embroidered with twisting reddish flames and the faces of tortured souls writhing in agony. Sokka wanted to tear them off of his body and see if he could make him writhe in—

“Uh huh,” was his very eloquent answer.

“Do you think maybe sometime we could…” Zuko pulled up short as Ozzy finished fussing with the coffee and cleared his throat.

“Saturday night?” Sokka said quickly. “8?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you on the docks,” Zuko whispered, and hurried to take his seat.

“Awwwwww!” Aang whispered gleefully as the meeting began. “Love at the Afflictions Anonymous meeting,” he clasped his hands ecstatically. “It’s like a romance novel.”

“Yeah, the shitty ones that get burned and sent down here,” Sokka whispered back, but there was no heat in his words.

He had a date with the Prince of Darkness, and he couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/157110919042/made-up-title-of-a-fic-the-aa-meeting-from-hell)


	9. Old Geezers sokka and zuko running a tea shop

“You can’t make that move!”

“Oh go fuck yourself, that’s a perfectly legitimate move.”

“If Iroh were here, would he be proud of you for making that move?”

“Leave Iroh out of this!”

“I can’t, when you’re **CHEATING** at his favorite game!”

“Are they always like this?” Suki whispered to Katara, who rolled her eyes.

“When you’ve been married for 30 years, the little things start to seem much more important than they used to,” Katara said, then turned and yelled back into the kitchen, “AANG. DID YOU PICK JINORAH UP FROM SCHOOL?”

“Shit!” A yellow and orange blur shot past them toward the door, wind ruffling their hair as the door banged open with a sudden gust.

“SLOW DOWN, you’re gonna break a hip!” Katara shouted after him, hobbling into the street to shake her walking stick at Aang’s back.

“Stop fighting with Aang, he’s just doing his best,” Sokka grumbled from the corner table, pushing a pai sho tile across the board.

Katara swelled indignantly. “You’re going to talk to me about bickering with my husband?”

“Since when do Zuko and I bicker?” Sokka asked innocently. He slid his hand across the table, and Zuko took it, eyes going soft as he slipped his fingers into Sokka’s palm.

“Gross,” Toph said.

“You have your feet up on a table people _eat_ on,” Zuko snapped.

“So?” Toph asked, and Suki swooped down to kiss her on the top of the head.

“Now who’s being disgusting?” Sokka complained. “Iroh left his teashop to me and Zuko, we can be as lovey dovey as we want.”

“Yes, but who actually _runs_  it?” Katara pointed out. “You two just play pai sho all day.”

“I’m enjoying my retirement!” Zuko protested. “Exactly as Iroh would have wanted.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted you to cheat,” Sokka said under his breath, and Katara sighed as Zuko turned back around to argue some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original post](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/post/160312125137/yo-lets-talk-about-old-geezers-sokka-and-zuko)
> 
> [Come say hi! Prompt me if you like :-)](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


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